Unconscious Objection

I couldn’t sleep. I didn’t want to sleep. Sleep has eluded me for several days at this point, but to sleep is to give up and let guilt destroy me. That’s what I call it anyway. Guilt. It’s as plausible an explanation as anybody has ever had for explaining this …

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The Tree From Which Dead Things Grow

I had nightmares about the place for weeks. Every time, it was exactly the same. I stood before a large oak tree, alone, in a vast field of dead grass. Roots from the tree wove in and out of the dirt, far from their source, twisting in unnatural ways. Its …

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